


A Birthday Present, Three Centuries Belated

by toushindai (WallofIllusion)



Series: Monica is Alive AU [4]
Category: Baccano!
Genre: Huey/Elmer mention, Japanese Rope Bondage, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 10:31:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5582269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WallofIllusion/pseuds/toushindai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a matter of absolute fact, Elmer has suggested the same present for Monica’s birthday every single damn year since 1705: Huey, wrapped up with a bow. Monica Is Alive AU, naturally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Birthday Present, Three Centuries Belated

**Author's Note:**

> More rope *work* than rope *bondage*. For the most part.

_Early October, 2005_

The day before Monica’s birthday.

Twenty minutes after she’d meant to, Monica is finally leaving the bakery behind her for the evening. She had planned on leaving early today so she could get home to Huey and Elmer and make plans for tomorrow’s celebrations, but on her way out the door Lynn had called out to her from the counter and requested that she rearrange the display cases. All three of them. Monica was less than pleased about the delay, but on her way out the door, Lynn wished her a happy early birthday with a _rather_ suspicious wink. Monica doesn’t recall mentioning that tomorrow is her birthday.

Regardless, her irritation is forgotten as she drives home, already daydreaming about tomorrow. The cake strapped delicately into the passenger seat is one she’s very proud of, and she intends to suggest they start on it tonight. There’s plenty of it to last them through tomorrow, after all.

So when she opens the front door to find that Elmer’s on his way out, she’s taken aback.

“Oh, Monica!” he says. “Perfect timing. Listen, I just got a call from the mayor, he needs my help making a baby smile for a photo op. It’s an emergency! I probably won’t be home for dinner. Huey’s in the bedroom. Bye!”

And before she can even begin to tell him what a ridiculous, obvious lie that is, he’s out the door. She stares after him for a moment, puzzled rather than concerned, before shaking her head, stowing the cake in the fridge, and making her way towards the bedroom.

“Huey…?” she calls on her way up the stairs. “Elmer’s scheming someth—”

She stops mid-word at the doorway to the bedroom, and _stares_.

*

Let’s turn back time a little.

Well, a lot, actually.

Because as a matter of absolute fact, Elmer has suggested the same present for Monica’s birthday every single damn year since _1705_ :

Huey, wrapped up with a bow.

The first time, Huey almost stomped on his foot almost hard enough to break it. This was before he learned that while Elmer didn’t care for pain, it consistently failed to serve as a deterrent for him. The fact that the rest of the class burst out laughing when Elmer fell backwards to avoid his attack certainly didn’t help either. So the next year, when Elmer topped the list with the same stupid words, Huey instead snatched it out of his hands and held it over a candle.

This also proved an insufficient deterrent, because he said the same exact thing the next year and the two years after that, despite glares from Huey every time.

In 1709, that was when they were apart, but with the _same damned grin_ Elmer suggested the _same damned thing_. Huey only stared, that year, and it felt strange and hollow not to be angry. He didn’t really like it. And Elmer must’ve caught on to his discomfort, because two months later he lied blatantly to Huey and Monica both to get them in a room together and well, after that they were a couple.

Which meant that _of course_ he suggested the same thing the following year, in a letter marked “For Huey’s Eyes Only (Moni-Moni, no peeking!).”

By the time he and Monica finally drank the elixir, Huey did so knowing that he was resigning himself to hear this same stupid joke for eternity.

*

_September, 2003_

“Sooo,” Elmer says. “Moni-Moni’s birthday is coming up.”

“No,” Huey says immediately.

Elmer blinks at him as if he doesn’t know what Huey’s objecting to. “Eh? Yes it is!”

“No,” Huey clarifies, “I’m not wrapping myself up in a bow and giving myself to her as a present.”

“Oh, come on. You know she’d liiiike iiiit.” This, Elmer says every year. But now he leans towards Huey, his grin somehow even cheekier than normal. “And I bet you would too.”

“You have been suggesting this for just shy of _three literal centuries_. Why do you imagine I’ll suddenly find it a good idea now?” Huey gives a long-suffering sigh. “First of all, how would it work? Are you just going to slap a bow on my head, write ‘to Monica, from Elmer’ on my arm, and shove me in her direction?”

“I mean, that was the original idea, yeah,” Elmer says, nodding eagerly. “But I’ve got something a little more involved than that in mind now. To start, you’d need to be naked—”

“ _This conversation is over_.”

So Elmer doesn’t press. But he doesn’t let it slip past him that for the first time ever, Huey has shown a sign of considering the logistics. He doesn’t let that slip past him at all.

*

_September, 2004_

“Don’t even say it.”

Elmer sits with a smug grin on his face, knowing that he doesn’t _have_ to say it at this point. Huey only sends a dry glare back at him.

“We always spend her entire birthday together. When, pray tell, would there even be time to set something like that up?”

“That’s definitely the tricky part. Even if we got some friends to take her out for a birthday lunch or something her mind would be on you the whole time, so that would be mean to her friends. But what if we did it the day before or something—”

Huey stands abruptly and walks out of the room. Elmer only raises an eyebrow. Not this year either, then, but he’s getting close.

*

_September, 2005_

Huey just gives a long, long sigh.

“Tell me how you envision this working.”

And Elmer does— _after_ an obligatory victory dance.

*

_Early October, 2005_

And now, the present: the day before Monica’s birthday, 2005.

Huey’s reading, minding his own business, when Elmer suddenly sits bolt upright. “Oh crap! Huey, we gotta get started!”

Huey glances at the time display on his phone. “She’s not due home for another hour and a half,” he says. “Surely it isn’t going to take that long.”

He’s less sure of this than he would like to be, because Elmer insisted on keeping parts of his grand plan secret, but he literally cannot imagine that _whatever_ Elmer has in mind will take more than thirty minutes. Right?

But Elmer tosses his phone in Huey’s direction. There’s a text from someone labeled “Lynn (M coworker)” on the display; it reads, “shes leaving early. can only hold her 15 mins!”

Huey raises an eyebrow in trepidation. “…How much did you tell this ‘Lynn’ person…?”

“Nothing embarrassing, just that we’re planning a surprise for Monica. Good thing I got her help, right? We almost missed our chance!”

Huey doesn’t stand. He can feel a blush slowly creeping up his face and buries his head in his book again in a useless attempt to hide it. Elmer only plucks the book from his hands.

“To the bedroom, my dear Huey!” he says, pulling Huey out of the chair.

Huey doesn’t resist, exactly, but he mumbles, “Why did I let you talk me into this?” as Elmer drags him up the stairs by the arm.

“Hmmmm, well, the words ‘we’ve all known each other for three hundred years now’ were involved…”

“Rhetorical question!”

Elmer just laughs. Once in the master bedroom, he draws all the curtains. “Strip,” he says cheerfully.

Huey hesitates for a long moment, staring at his friend. He is, at this point, brick red.

“How are you so _shameless_?” he asks, his eyes narrowed.

“What’s there to be ashamed of?” Elmer responds with his trademark grin. “It’s just something different and fun. If Monica doesn’t like it, all you have to do is blame me. …I mean, if she doesn’t figure it out that it was my idea to begin with, I’m gonna be really surprised. Now strip,” he repeats. He crosses his arms and taps his foot, performing impatience while still smirking all the while.

Another long stare, but Huey finally pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it towards the hamper. But before he can reach for his pants, too, Elmer stops him with a hand on his arm.

“Oh, hold up. If you want to kiss me, now’s your last chance of the day.”

“What?”

“After this, I’m gonna wrap you up as a present for Monica, right? I’m not gauche enough to open someone else’s present.”

Huey rolled his eyes. “That is a lie. You are definitely at _least_ that gauche.”

“Okay, yeah.” Elmer laughs. “But not in this case. You want a kiss or not?”

“Not right now.” He just wants to get this whole ribbon-and-bow business over with, frankly.

“Alright.” Elmer goes to retrieve something from his bedroom and speaks over his shoulder. “Get rid of those pants, then. Underwear too.”

“ _What_?”

“You heard me.”

Huey takes off his pants. The underwear stays. When Elmer returns from his room, carrying a book in one hand and a roll of thick red ribbon in the other, he raises an eyebrow at Huey’s reluctance.

“Like I haven’t seen it before.”

“You can—do _whatever_ you’re planning to do with that ribbon just fine with my underwear on,” Huey says.

“Sure,” Elmer agrees with a significant look. “ _I_ can. But can Monica?”

Huey closes his eyes for a moment, somehow turning even _redder_ than he was before. Without another word, he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and slides out of them.

“Make this quick.”

“Will do!” Elmer answers, cracking his knuckles. Huey catches a glimpse of the words _Erotic Rope Bondage_ on the cover of the book he’s carrying before he props it open on the nightstand to a set of instructions that have considerably more steps than Huey has expected.

And then he gets to work, chattering all the while. For once Huey is glad for Elmer’s ridiculous wandering monologues that pause at just the right times for Huey to offer obvious comebacks or to demand to know where he got the book (“Amazon, duh”) or what gave him the damn idea to do something so complicated in the first place (“So I accidentally stumbled into this dungeon a few years back…”). The chatter distracts him from the way Elmer crisscrosses the ribbon around his body in what emerges as a kind of harness (a _karada_ harness, according to the book. Not a very creative name). It’s not uncomfortable, physically. It’s maybe not as polished as the set-up in the book, but it’s recognizably the same thing.

When it’s complete, Elmer walks in a slow circle around Huey like a sculptor assessing his work. Then he gives a satisfied nod. “Perfect. Just gotta put the final touches on now. Can I tie up your wrists?”

“…Why the hell not, at this point.”

“That’s the spirit!”

“Is it?” Huey asks dubiously. Regardless, Elmer cuts another length of ribbon off of the roll and ties Huey’s wrists together in front of him, finishing it with a lopsided bow. Huey expects this to be the “bow” that Elmer’s been going on and on about, but just as he’s about to exhale with relief that the ordeal of preparation is over, Elmer cuts off one more length of ribbon and prepares another bow.

Huey sighs. “Where are you planning to put that,” he asks flatly, already knowing the answer. Elmer only raises an eyebrow at him and threads the loose ends through the front of the harness in what can only be called a strategic location. He primps the bow once it’s secured, _winking_ up at Huey in the most infuriating manner before stepping back.

Then, as Huey looks down at himself, wondering when he left all his dignity behind, he hears the click of a camera phone shutter. His head shoots up.

“Delete that _immediately_ ,” he demands, making a clumsy grab for Elmer’s phone with his tied hands. Elmer only dances backwards, out of the way, laughing.

“I’m not saving it, chill! I just want to show you what Monica’s gonna see when she gets here.”

He takes a cautious step closer to Huey, his phone open and the photo he just took on the screen. The red ribbon is striking against Huey’s pale skin. And, apparently, it complements the way he’s _still blushing_. Huey averts his eyes.

“You’d better hope Monica likes this,” he mutters.

“Huey, Monica would like you even if you were covered in garbage. _This_ is gonna make her ecstatic.”

He’s grinning eagerly, and Huey shakes his head. Of course that’s what this is about, to Elmer. At least that means that he must really believe it, or he wouldn’t risk Huey’s displeasure like this. Humming through his nose, Elmer lets Huey watch the screen as he deletes the incriminating photo and scrolls back and forth through the pictures folder to prove that there was only that one copy.

“There, see? Now sit back, relax, and wait for the birthday girl to get home.”

Huey takes a seat on the bed as instructed, careful not to disturb either of the bows he’d been decorated with in the process. Elmer, meanwhile, stations himself by the window, every now and then peeking out to see if Monica has made it home yet. Huey watches him out of the corner of his eyes, his thoughts not altogether well-behaved. He’s a little worked up—which may not be surprising, all things considered—and just as he’s starting to regret not getting that kiss from Elmer earlier, he feels something warm and furry brush against his leg and jumps. Down near his feet, Zosimos rubs against his leg and purrs.

Huey twitches his leg, trying to chase the cat away. “Zoe, shoo,” he instructs, to no avail. “ _Zosimos_ —Elmer, could you get that cat out of here?”

Elmer is, unsurprisingly, _very_ amused by what’s happening. “Aww, is Zoe bothering you?”

Bothering isn’t quite the right word. The warmth against his bare leg is almost distractingly nice. But before he can answer Elmer’s question, they hear the sound of a car pulling up outside. Elmer checks the curtains and then grins, rubbing his hands together. “Here she comes! I’ll get out of your way. Have fun~”

He grabs Zosimos on the way out the door and down the stairs, and Huey hears him spout some ridiculous lie about helping the mayor deal with an emergency before the front door shuts again. A pause, a sound from the kitchen, and then the sound of Monica’s feet creaking up the stairs to the bedroom.

“Huey…? Elmer’s scheming someth—”

She stops at the doorway when she sees him, her hands flying to her mouth and her eyes going wide as saucers.

“Happy birthday,” Huey says, half sincere and half ironic.

At that, Monica begins to giggle, her shoulders shaking helplessly with laughter. She covers her face—she’s as red as Huey is—but keeps peeking at him through her fingers, which only makes her giggle harder.

“You were right,” Huey adds. “Elmer was scheming something.”

“Yes, I see that.” She comes into the room and sits next to him on the bed, her eyes tracing over the harness. She reaches for one of the bows—the one on his wrists, mercifully—and fiddles with the looped ribbon as she smiles and speaks again. “How long did it take him to talk you into this?”

“He’s been suggesting it every year since we met.”

Her eyebrows go up at that. “ _Every_ year…?”

“Every. Year.”

“Since we met.”

“Since _1705_.”

She presses a hand to her forehead. “Oh my god, Elmer…” she murmurs at their absent partner. Then she giggles a little more and shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. I’m not laughing at you, Huey.”

“No, I know, it’s ridiculous.” Huey rolls his eyes. “Look, it’s just his dumb idea. You don’t have to play along.”

She’s biting her lip, looking down at the bow on his wrists again. Or maybe the other one. Huey shifts. “Seriously, I won’t mind if you want to just cut the whole thing off, I think Elmer left the scissors on the nightsta—”

“Huey,” Monica interrupts. She smiles and hooks a finger around the section of ribbon that trails down the center of Huey’s chest. “I like it.”

“…Oh.”

“Do _you_ like it?”

Ten seconds ago, he would have had a snarky answer for her, something disparaging the stupid Smile Junkie’s stupid ideas. Now, as he watches her chew her lip with a certain light in her eyes, he has to swallow before he can answer. “As long as you do.”

“I do,” she says. “Quite a lot.”

And then she pulls him forward by the harness and kisses him deeply, and for whatever reason—because it’s (almost) her birthday, because he’s so exposed, because his hands are immobile—he’s much more breathless than normal by the time she pulls back. The lower ribbon is on the verge of slipping out of place.

She sends a mischievous glance down at it before looking Huey in the eyes once more.

“Can I open my present a day early?” she asks.

“You can do whatever you want,” he answers.

And without further ado, she does.


End file.
